


I Met You Once Upon a Dream

by Ruritto



Series: Sylvix Week 2019 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Not Beta Read, Sylvix Week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 03:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21029357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruritto/pseuds/Ruritto
Summary: The dreams have always been the same. No matter how hard he'd tried he couldn't change them. Until he sees a familiar face at a train station.Day 2 Sylvix Week: Dreams





	I Met You Once Upon a Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Connected to my Day 1 drabble so reading that might be necessary. Enjoy! :)

Sylvain’s dreams have been the same since he was a child. Standing in the middle of a battlefield, lance in hand, everything around him just blurs into shouting and weapons clashing and death and a child in the center of it all, crying in front of him, dark haired, tear streaked cheeks and the skin around his eyes a blotchy red from him trying to scrub his tears away. He's shaking in his heavy winter coat, emotions too much for a tiny body. Like clockwork the child raises an arm towards him, tiny hand reaching for him. A sniffle and a sob, “Syl,”

And, like clockwork, he does as he always does in these dreams, since he started having them, having long given up trying to change his actions, already knowing no matter how hard he tries, no matter how he struggles, his body will move as it always does. He steps forward, body not under his control and pulls the child into his arms, heart clenching. Somehow even back then he's always known he'd come when this child called.

He’s a captive audience, looking through his own eyes at the little kid. He had at first thought the child was a girl, his hiccuping voice and ponytail hair making Sylvain think so, until he noticed the trousers and sword the kid was carrying. Something in him roiled at the thought of this strange child with a weapon in hand. He’d wondered if it was because of how small the child is or because someone who cried this much shouldn’t be a fighter, but the thought was dismissed as his body opens its mouth, choking out one word, “Fe,”

And with the name of the child spoken, Sylvain internally cringes, wanting to shut his eyes and stop seeing what's about to happen, what he's about to do, even as his body continues to move. 

The lance he’s holding goes through the tiny tiny body, Fe impaled on it as his blood flows down the shaft and to Sylvain’s hands, and teary brown eyes looking up at him in betrayal, “Syl…”

And then Sylvain wakes up, usually to Miklan banging against his door or his own alarm clock. 

The dream has always stayed the same. _ Always _. Even when Sylvain tried and tried to do something different. To turn away from the boy or to not hold him or to voice a warning. It's always been the same and always ended the same with 'Fe' gored on the lance looking at him questioningly. 

And then he moves, hoping to get away from his parents' influences and his brother's nagging and he sees _ him _. 

He looks different, older for one and not a child, hair longer and in a low ponytail instead of the high one the child had, but it was _ him. _ Sylvain knows those eyes and they look at him with the same pain and questions they do in his dreams. And his chest aches, and his mind yells _ Felix. _

The dreams change then. 

It no longer begins in a battlefield, instead their teens, dressed in uniforms and surrounded by warmth and the laughter of their friends and Felix shakes his head at him but is amused at his antics, or they're kids and they're surrounded by snow and snow and snow and instead of crying this little Felix is giggling and happy, chasing him around as they play, his only tears caused when Sylvain pretends to leave him behind. 

It no longer begins in a battlefield but it still ends there. This time it's no longer a crying child in front of him but Felix fully grown, dressed in blue and teal of Faerghus <strike>home but not.</strike> He's scowling but Sylvain can see the tells of how he wants to cry. 

It still ends with Felix's blood on his hand, the man walking closer despite being impaled on his lance, no longer teary eyed or betrayed, he instead looks resigned as he raises a hand to Sylvain's face, gentle as he asks, _ "Was it worth it?"_

<strike>Oh God he wants to say it's not but it isitisitis for a world without crests.</strike> _  
_

He tries to look for him, glad that he has the excuse of transferring to be able to spend hours upon hours at the train station he saw him at. After a week of always coming back empty handed, sent away the personnel once the station closes, he's exhausted, wide brown eyes staring at him whenever he shuts his own. 

He wants to give up <strike>he doesn't he wants Felix</strike> and is close to calling Miklan, to ask his brother if can stay at his place again, wanting to run, when footsteps approach the bench he's sitting at and he looks up to see familiar brown, tired but there. 

They are silent as they take each other in until Sylvain finally manages to swallow the sob he wants to let out, instinct taking over as he tries for a charming smile, knowing he's likely failed, "Hey," he says only barely keeping himself from choking on the word, "would you believe me if I say I've been dreaming about you?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha i actually didn't think I'd continue my first drabble (or continue Sylvix week) but got bitten by this idea and couldn't leave it alone. I hope you liked it and please a review.


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